A Map of the Sky

by Claire Wong

  “They can be a frustrating lot sometimes. Sometimes you wonder what they actually learn at school before they start the course. But there are always some bright sparks in each year group.”

  “So what birds will you look for here?” asked Kit, thinking that there might be something exotic to add to Beth’s map. His dad had taken him to the park once and pointed out a flock of bright green parakeets, which looked like the sort of bird you ought to find in a zoo or the jungle, but he had no idea if they could be found this far north.

  “Oh, guillemots and razorbills down on Flamborough Head. Puffins too, if you go to the right points. And I’ve already been out on the moors and into the National Park a good few times and seen curlews and lapwings. With any luck, I may spot a Northern Goshawk before I leave. That’d be a fine thing to have a photograph of.”

  “Are they rare?” Kit had never heard of most of these, and wasn’t sure how to spell their names if they did end up warranting inclusion on the map.

  “Northern Goshawks? Well, they aren’t endangered, if that’s what you mean. There’s a few hundred pairs breeding in the country. But you don’t see them as often as pigeons, let’s put it that way. I suppose it would be nice to see something truly rare. It might make up for my mistakes this year if I had something interesting to talk about on my return. But I don’t imagine that restoring my reputation as an ornithologist will be as simple as that.”

  As Bert fell silent, the drumming of the rain on the windows grew louder. Kit was a little disappointed: he had hoped there would be a rare and spectacular bird on Bert’s list that could feature as another annotated adventure on the map.

  “I think it’s your turn, Maddie,” said Bert, turning in his chair to give his full attention to her.

  “For what?” Maddie lurched back to the conversation she had drifted away from.

  “These children – sorry, young people – need some entertaining on a grey and dreary day. And what could be more entertaining than conversation with new friends? You must have some interesting stories to tell us about yourself.”

  Maddie raised her eyebrows at this assertion. For a moment, Kit thought she was going to snap at Bert, but instead she looked from one face to the next and relented.

  “Well, I’m not sure there’s much to say about me. My name’s Maddie, which is short for Madeline but nobody calls me that any more. I’ve spent the last few weeks walking up the east coast of England, starting from my old home in Norfolk, and this is perhaps the most – no, the only – adventurous thing I’ve ever done in my life. Never was one for spontaneity or excitement, really. If you see me wearing the same clothes a few days in a row, it’s because I’m travelling light.”

  “You mean you’re carrying all your stuff and just walking from one town to the next?” asked Kit.

  “That’s right.”

  “Wow! That’s so cool.” He couldn’t help his enthusiasm: it was blurted out before he could remember that they weren’t supposed to like one another. At Kit’s words Maddie seemed to brighten up and she gave him a broad smile. He began to feel that he had misjudged her the day they first met. But then she had misjudged him too, or she would not have accused him of spying.

  “I’ve climbed hills and crossed rivers, walked in thunderstorms with lightning striking the trees about me, and nearly been swept away by the tide on the coast.”

  It was hard to picture this middle-aged woman being so daring: she looked more like one of the scruffier teachers from Kit’s old school than the sort of person to trek the length of the country.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the abbey up at Whitby.”

  Kit was unsure where this was. The trouble with being somewhere new was that all the places people talked about were unfamiliar. Whitby, Flamborough, Scarborough – they might as well have been names from the other side of the world. And yet there was a deliciousness about that foreign quality too. It opened up new possibilities: strange sites usually had room for mystery, for abandoned ruins and buried treasure. You couldn’t find that in Richmond Park; Kit had spent enough of his life up to now exploring it to know this for certain.

  “But why couldn’t you just take the train?” asked Juliet.

  Kit groaned. He should have guessed she would be practical rather than poetic about this. She could not see the value in Maddie’s expedition, or how much more exciting it would be to travel on foot than to take the fastest route. Sometimes he wondered if his sister had any imagination at all.

  “I’m on a kind of pilgrimage,” Maddie explained. “Is that a word you know? Yes, I thought so; you have a clever look about you. So you understand that the journey is important. When pilgrims travelled to significant sites hundreds of years ago, they would have gone on foot, so now I am too. In our busy world, it’s good to take your time and get a clear head once in a while.”

  “Not far to go either,” Bert chimed in. “Whitby’s only ten, maybe fifteen, miles away. You could do that in a day.”

  Maddie gave Bert an icy look and made a non-committal noise. Bert seemed not to notice.

  “Why are you on a pilgrimage?” Kit asked. He had never heard of a modern-day pilgrim before, and wondered if it was a religious exercise. She had mentioned an abbey, so maybe she was off to visit some monks.

  “Well…” Maddie paused, becoming interested in staring at the cold cinders in the fireplace for a moment. “Pilgrimages are often about learning something along the way. And when you’re not in school any more, sometimes you have to deliberately set aside time to learn new things.”

  “What have you learned so far?” asked Juliet, who liked quantifiable data as much as Kit liked unravelling mysteries with “why” questions.

  “I’m not sure yet.” Maddie smiled, raising her hands in a kind of shrug. “Maybe it will become clear by the time I get to the abbey.”

  “When will you go?”

  “Soon enough; when the weather brightens and I have everything ready that I need for the journey.”

  She folded her arms across herself and smiled again, but as the conversation moved on to Bert describing the wildlife that could be found near Whitby Abbey, Kit noticed Maddie’s smile fade and her eyes drift downward, as if she were no longer really listening but immersed in some other thought.

  “And what brought you two here this summer then?” Bert asked them. “Kit tells me you’re moving to Yorkshire permanently. Guess you couldn’t wait to get to your new home?”

  “Yes, we’re very excited to be moving into our new house,” Juliet replied, with the level of animation she might muster for choosing between white bread or brown at breakfast. She looked down at her hands, scrutinizing them for chips in her grey-pink nail varnish.

  “I don’t mind being here for now though,” added Kit. “We don’t have to help out with housework and stuff like we would at home. Mum says it’s important for us to do lots. She says we’re both really mature for our ages because she treats us like adults and expects us to behave that way.” He stopped, embarrassed to register that it sounded as though he were boasting, and quickly changed the subject. “I hope my new room has a window towards the sea. Jules has the best view here. Or at least, it’s better than the one I’ve got. It’s not really fair, because she doesn’t even like the outdoors much. She’d rather be shopping or revising or texting her old friends from school.”

  So far, he had only seen photographs of their new house. His parents had been up to view it, but Kit and Juliet had yet to set foot in the place where they would soon live. Juliet had studied the pictures and drawn up a meticulous plan for the layout of her new room on graph paper, making sure everything would fit perfectly. Kit enjoyed the suspense of not knowing for sure what the house was like. He hoped the garden was an overgrown wilderness, perfect for building a den, and that the attic would be a cosy space where he could hide away from the others with a torch and a stack of books. A secret passage was probably too much to hope for, but you never knew unless you looked.


  “Ah, of course,” said Bert. “You’ll both be starting new schools up here in the autumn. You must miss the friends you’ve left behind. Still, always nice to meet new people.”

  “Mum said it was for the best,” Juliet said thinly.

  “Well, parents are always trying to do what’s best for their children. I’ve got two sons, you know, both grown up now. One of them’s married and lives in Bristol. No children of their own yet, though they have just bought a golden retriever. The other’s a pilot and flies passenger planes between here and the Far East. Always phones me in the middle of the night and says he forgot about the time difference again! But that’s me getting distracted.” The birdwatcher stopped himself before he pulled the conversation any further away from its original course.

  “I still don’t really get it,” Kit said, seizing an opportunity to voice his questions without their mother present to silence him. “This move, I mean. It’s not like we’ve come for Dad’s work, because they’re keeping him in the office in London. And Mum likes to pretend she’s still at her old job – she phones in to the office any chance and tells them all what to do. So why do we have to be here at all?”

  “Leave it alone,” Juliet warned, gripping the arm of the chair so that her knuckles turned white. Bert opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and instead shifted uncomfortably in the armchair while looking around the room. But Kit could not stop now that he had begun. Maybe if he pointed out the illogicality of it, Juliet would tell him something she knew that he did not. He felt certain she must be in on the secret and know why they were there. He had never heard her ask any questions about it. That strongly suggested she was complicit.

  “I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve got a theory. I think we’re on the run from the police. Maybe Dad’s involved with the Mafia. Or something. But this would be a great place to hide out. No one would think to look for us all the way up here.”

  “Stop being stupid. You always have to make things so dramatic.” Juliet’s lip curled in scorn at his hypothesis. It was unlike her to be rude to him when there were strangers present. He must be getting closer to the truth.

  “But why else would they make us leave school before the proper end of term and come here before we even have a house? It’s all right for you. You got to see your friends one last time at that end-of-exams party, but I’m missing all the fun end-of-term stuff.”

  “I said drop it!” Her voice had become louder and shriller. The noise startled him into silence. Juliet looked surprised at herself. She stood up and hurried out of the room without another word.

  “Well, that girl’s carrying something heavy, for certain.” Maddie exhaled as though she had been holding her breath during the exchange. She watched the empty doorway through which Juliet had left, with an expression of concern.

  “I don’t know about that,” said Bert. “It’s not for us to get involved in Kit’s family affairs. But maybe it’s better not to be asking your sister too many questions for the time being, lad. No need to upset her more, eh?”

  Kit frowned. More and more, the world was a conspiracy of adults who understood something he did not, and were working to keep it from him. But there was one adult who he thought might just help him. He left his books on the arm of the chair and went to find Beth.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SCAR BAY

  DAY SIX

  Five possible reasons why we moved up here:

  1. Dad is working undercover to bring down a gang of criminals, and we’ve had to flee far away for our safety, so that the gangsters don’t kidnap us in revenge.

  2. Either Mum or Dad has secretly changed jobs to become a scientist who studies dolphins/fish/crabs, so we need to be near the sea for their work.

  3. We’re in hiding like Bert and avoiding people who would laugh at us. (In which case, what happened to make them laugh? Did Mum embarrass herself in public?)

  4. Our new school St Jude’s has a scholarship specially for Londoners.

  5. I’m having a surprise party for my eleventh birthday, on a real pirate ship. Dad has stayed behind to buy cake and presents, but we’re here so it’s not too far to the harbour. Although then I think it’ll be a long way for all my friends to come to it.

  Beth was not in her room. The only sound from her doorway was faint snippets of the conversation Kit had left behind in the guests’ lounge. It seemed colder and greyer without her as Kit stared at the vacant chair and the folded gingham blanket on the footstool nearby. The emptiness of the space made him nervous. Where could she be? She had promised Kit she was not ill enough to die, but what if she had suddenly got worse? Perhaps she had gone to hospital. His heart began to race at the thought of what might have happened. He ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him in haste. He would look for Sean. If Sean was still here, it would mean Beth was OK.

  He raced down the corridor towards the reception desk where they had met Sean on their first day. No one was there either. Panic rose and Kit went to the only other place he dared to look. He burst through the kitchen door, causing the two people in there to turn sharply and stop their conversation. Sean looked bewildered; Askfeld’s chef scowled as he paused midway through slicing a small mound of carrots.

  “You’re not supposed to be in here,” he said, pointing the knife at the intruder.

  Kit ignored him and spoke to Sean instead. “What’s happened?” He was breathless from running across the building, but managed to articulate the question nonetheless. The owner and the chef stared at him.

  “You tell me. Is something wrong?” Sean asked. From his expression, Kit guessed he did not yet know that his wife was missing. He would have to break the news to them so that they could join in the search.

  Then another voice spoke. Someone was coming into the kitchen through the open door behind him.

  “There you are, love. I need to speak to you about some of these figures when you’ve got a moment. Oh, hello, Kit!”

  Kit spun round and stared, speechless. Beth was standing there without any kind of support and carrying a lined notepad under one arm.

  “You know, you shouldn’t really be in here. This is where Nick makes all the food for you and the other guests. If we distract him he might accidentally chop off one of his fingers and put it in the soup! Let’s leave him to it. Sean, come and find me when you’ve got time to talk about the numbers. I’ll be in the office.”

  Still unable to find words to express his amazement at this miraculous recovery that seemed to surprise nobody else, Kit obediently followed Beth out of the kitchen. As the door swung closed behind him, he heard one of the two men mutter to the other, “What on earth was that about?”

  There was a small room next to the kitchen, with a plaque on the door that said “Private”. It was at this door that Beth stopped, and Kit realized she did not expect him to follow her. But he still needed to know what was going on, so he had to ask his questions before she closed the door on him.

  “Are you better now? Did the doctor give you some new medicine?”

  “I’m feeling better today than I was yesterday. But I don’t know what will happen tomorrow.” Even Beth seemed unamazed that suddenly her legs worked normally. He was beginning to wonder if he had imagined her entire illness.

  “But you’re walking! I thought you couldn’t walk. Doesn’t this mean you’re getting better?”

  “I see.” Beth smiled at his confusion – a kind smile that told him she had not lied. “Maybe the explanation I gave you before was too simple. I didn’t want to confuse you, but clearly you’re quite bright, so perhaps the child-friendly version isn’t going to cut it after all.”

  Kit liked the idea of not being treated like a child: a privilege usually reserved for his sister. For once, he was the one being recognized as clever and mature enough. He met Beth’s expression with a defiant stare that said, Yes, you underestimated me, while she narrowed her eyes and searched for the right words.
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  “You remember I told you my illness is more complicated than the ones you are used to? Well, some days I can walk around – maybe just a little bit, maybe more – but then the next day I might not be able to get out of bed. It’s hard to predict, and we just tend to see what each morning’s like.” She hesitated. Kit wondered if the thought of tomorrow frightened her, being so unknown. But Beth took another breath and went on, “So, on good days like today, I make the most of it – I get up and stretch my legs. And right now I’m catching up on our finances. Sean never liked dealing with numbers, but I’m quite good with them, if I can just think clearly enough.”

  “But your map – I thought you said you couldn’t do any of those things you did as a child.”

  “And I can’t. I can’t make a plan to go on a long hike next weekend, or spontaneously run down to the beach and jump in the waves. Even on good days those things would take a lot out of me, and on bad days I wouldn’t be able to get dressed without help, let alone leave the house. It doesn’t mean I’ll never get to see any of those places again. But my world is changed now. And although I’m recording all the memories I want to pass on, my future adventures will be quite different.”

  “OK. Sorry I didn’t understand.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Beth sighed and hugged the notebook to herself so that her chin rested on the top edge of it. Now that she had finished explaining, she looked weary. “It’s a confusing thing. Even the doctors have a hard time making sense of it sometimes. Anyway, tell me, where are you off to?”

  “Well, I was looking for you.”

  “I’m not used to being so popular! Do you need another book to borrow? I found one about Robin Hood that I think you’d probably like.”

  “No, it’s not that.”

  Beth studied his face. “Something more serious, by the look of it. Come in and sit down then. I can’t stand for too long, even on good days, now that there’s so much more of me to carry about.” She adjusted the stretched fabric of her dress to sit evenly and propped open the door of the study. She moved more slowly now than when she had come into the kitchen. They both went in and sat down on the two black swivel chairs that faced one another across a desk. Beth immediately started spinning round on hers. “I can never resist doing that,” she confided with a mischievous smile. “So, what’s the problem?”